


Odyssey of Their Own

by ineedbetterhobbies



Category: Super Mario & Related Fandoms, Super Mario Bros. (Video Games), Super Mario Odyssey (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bad Puns, Eventual Fluff, Eventual Romance, F/M, How Do I Tag, Loss of Virginity, Luigi needs a hug, Pauline is a top, Rare Pairings, Self-Esteem Issues, Soft Boi Luigi, Why Did I Write This?, luigi gonna lay down some pipe, slowish-burn, talk about nintendont bruh
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-10
Updated: 2021-01-10
Packaged: 2021-03-15 00:41:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28679814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ineedbetterhobbies/pseuds/ineedbetterhobbies
Summary: After hearing of Mario’s latest adventure, of endearing himself to new people and creatures of all kinds around the globe, Luigi couldn’t get the thought out of his head. He wanted his own odyssey. A chance to be his own player one, so to speak.In the shadow of Mario's latest adventure, Luigi seeks out to make one of his own. His first stop in his impulsive trip- New Donk City.
Relationships: Luigi & Mario (Nintendo), Pauline/Luigi
Kudos: 10





	Odyssey of Their Own

**Author's Note:**

> Luigi doesn't get enough love, and I wanted to fix that.

**Outskirts of the Mushroom Kingdom**

Luigi could feel his fingers swimming in his gloves. He was practically sweating Bullet Bills. With a shaky, gloved hand, Luigi peeled off his cap and waved it in front of his face. It did little to remedy his fever of nervousness. He swept his brown curls back and plopped the cap back on his head. He was twitchy, and more worried than the piranha plants that screeched fireballs when Mario trimmed the gardens. With a gulp, Luigi stepped up to the ramshackle ticket box. A bored looking Toad perusing a magazine sat in the wooden structure, propped up by a stool.

“ _He’s literally a toadstool_.” Luigi whispered to himself.

He suddenly winced as soon as he realized the lame pun had left his lips. The toad looked unbothered, the joke falling deaf on his hidden ears. Luigi gulped silently in relief. His nervous habit of blurting poor puns and silly observations hadn’t earned him the ire of the train ticket Toad. Yet. It was admittedly one of his less harmful nervous ticks, but it certainly had aroused grumpiness and wariness in prior social interactions. This, coupled with his seemingly innate clumsiness, often made for a recipe of disaster.

A particular doozy of social flailing had occurred merely weeks ago. Luigi, in a fit of unbridled excitement, had tripped during Toadette’s birthday ceremony and had sent her brilliant cake flying, lit candles and all. In the end, Luigi had gifted Toadette not only a new tennis racket, but also a singed pair of drapes, cake smushed into her carpeting, and a particularly distasteful joke on the nature of a “smashing” birthday party. She had not been pleased, to say the least. Luigi shook his head. His focus should be elsewhere. He rang the beaten bell on the counter. The toad paid no mind to the initial ding, still steadily engrossed in his magazine.

Luigi gave the bell another ring, tentative.

Luigi heard a nasally groan, and saw the toad slap down the magazine, expression now sour.

“What?” The toad frowned.

“I-I’d like a ticket to-“ Luigi began, before being interrupted by the irritated toad.

“Oh, it’s you! Lugi, Mario’s cousin!” He exclaimed, eyes going wide.

Luigi frowned. “It’s Luigi,” He grumbled, “and I’m Mario’s twin brother.”

The toad looked unimpressed.

He squinted. “Are you sure? I don’t remember Mario having a brother. I remember him having a cousin that had to be rescued from King Boo. A cousin who cries a lot.”

Luigi smacked down a handful of coins.

“I’m the one who rescued him from that mansion, and I’ll have you know it’s been a whole week since the last time I cried!”

As soon as the admission left his lips, Luigi felt the tiny fire of indignation quickly be replaced with embarrassment. The toad’s little face tightened, and a blush bloomed on his cheeks. His jaw quivered, and then finally the dam broke. He erupted into a reedy fit of laughter. Luigi’s face burned. He didn’t know what was worse, being laughed at by strangers, or by his known peers. He was certainly getting ample practice with both, lately, and not in the ways he liked to make people laugh. The toad laughed for what seemed like an eternity, before calming with an amused wipe of his beady eyes.

“Are you finished?” Luigi gritted out, palms in fists. The toad gave a snicker, bubbling with a few more gasps, before nodding.

“Where is it you want to go, _Luigi_?” The toad drawled.

“I’d like a one-way train ticket to New Donk City.”

“Why a train ticket? Ya know the Mushroom Kingdom has plenty of airships for commercial use now. Hardly anybody buys train tickets these days.” Rather than admitting to a large phobia of heights, Luigi just mumbled something about the cheaper cost. The toad shrugged, his bout of obnoxious curiosity ending. The novelty of his discomfort seemed to have worn off.

“Whatever. I don’t even know why they keep me on here. It’s a ghost town at this station. First train outta here for New Donk comes in a few hours.” The toad gave Luigi the ticket, and quickly returned to his magazine.

Luigi stared at the ticket in his hand. He was finally doing it. After years of seeing his brother travel, both for business and for leisure, he was now taking the plunge. Sure, there had been times where Luigi had accompanied Mario on his travels, but Luigi rarely strayed from the resorts, or inns they had stayed in when Mario went galivanting off into the wilds of the lands they visited. He had always played it safe, letting his brother do the main searching and rescuing. Seldom was it for Luigi to adventure to the level of Mario. Never had he traveled alone.

But after hearing of Mario’s latest adventures, of endearing himself to new people and creatures of all kinds around the globe, Luigi couldn’t get the thought out of his head. He wanted his own odyssey. It made the old desire for change puff up again, a ravioli of thought meaty with a new promise. A promise for breaking out of his shell and the low expectations of people around him. A chance to be his own player one, so to speak. That compounded on his recent social failings, paved way for a new path.

Luigi could use a vacation from his usual surroundings.

He had packed a medium suitcase, stuffed to the brim with spare overalls, a few well-used gadgets from an old friend, and some bare necessities. He was traveling by train, with a nebulous plan as to what he would do as he went on his trip. He didn’t have a stringent itinerary, which both excited and frightened him.

Luigi liked plans, lists and rehearsals. It was safer, easier that way when dealing with enemies, or navigating the verbal jungles of a palace party. He was good at making plans. Executing them successfully, with his own abilities, however, often left him with mixed results. Mario, unlike him, always took to his plans like a dorrie to water. Luigi was good at putting the theoretical to reality, but he himself struggled to execute the actions, pushing plans to others he deemed more capable.

But now, any plans were gone to the wind, and Luigi had only himself to work through the logistics of the trip. To _actually_ embark on the trip. He wondered, self-pityingly, how far he’d go before he came drudging back to the Mushroom Kingdom, hat in hand, and defeat in his heart. The thought of stomaching that sort of personal ache sent Luigi’s guts into a twist. It felt like somebody was wringing him out like a dish towel. Luigi sighed, but didn’t flee the station. Rolling suitcase trailing behind, he made his way into the inside of the small building.

True to the toad’s grumbling, it was nearly empty, save for a few other denizens milling about, likely waiting for the train as well. Luigi plopped himself into one of the benches. It would be a little bit before the train to New Donk rattled through.

He fished out a book. It was a new one, thick with information about the history and technology of New Donk City. Luigi found an interesting chapter on the city’s inner pipework and settled in for some time.

_The skill it must take to lay such pipe!_

_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ 

_**New Donk City, dusk.** _

The city skyline seemed to stretch on forever. A roiling strip of concrete and neon undulated in planes. It was waking up, livening up to a nocturnal jig. The kind of buzz that kicked up heels and sent cares flying. A bustling cityscape that made even the bravest feel small in its swell. Pauline gazed out onto to it. She was pressed against her balcony, leaning out. Her dark hair fanned out freely, the fingers of a cool evening breeze lifting their strands. The wind flirted with her, an airy embrace that brought the smell and potential of the city, almost like a beckoning friend, trying to pull her into its musical heart. The only song she’d be listening to that evening would be the protesting screech of her coffee machine. Duty called, and she wanted to let it ring.

__

But, like her beautiful city, mayoral duties didn’t sleep. She gave a big yawn. She didn’t sleep too much, either these days.

__

Pauline let herself linger for a moment. Fingers traced idle patterns into the metal of the balcony. She and her band hadn’t met in months. Any, and all musical effort had been stymied by the cleanup of Bowser’s tasteless wedding fiasco. She had been lucky when that Mario fella had appeared, doling out retribution like an angel in red. Her city would’ve been totally in crumbles, she thought, if he hadn’t intervened with that overgrown turtle manchild. The festival also went off without a hitch, thanks to him. Regardless of the mess Bowser had made, the festival had still been saved. She had been, and still was, incredibly grateful for Mario’s help.

__

But internally, it made her feel like she had slipped up as a mayor. She knew this issue didn’t lie with the aggressively polite little man, with his mustachioed smile and ease with instructions. She was still relatively new, barely into a year into her term, and she still felt like her position was precarious. She had won the election through her own merits, and the confidence and searing determination she always prided herself on had been upended. Bowser and his cronies had shaken up her city, and her own sense of self, until it burst open like a can of Super Soda. But Bowser’s brief reign of terror had ended, and the resulting damage was mainly cleared up. The city was reemerging into something better, with revitalization efforts and successful energy levels. Trade was soaring, and business was booming for many. But despite the reclaimed success, Pauline still felt on edge, like a damsel waiting for her villain to show up.

__

Her literal villain, now a reformed friend, was leagues away, dealing with his own monkey business. Vaguely, Pauline wondered if she should call him up, for old times’ sake. She needed a good distraction, and a dose of companionship. The image of the primate punching her paperwork good-naturedly in a show of camaraderie, then splitting a banana shake with her at a local Starbean Café warmed Pauline. A warm thought that was soon doused in a cold reality –she didn’t have the time and couldn’t afford to distract herself. She loved her job, and her people, but her self-esteem had been dealt a blow. Now, it felt like she was scrambling, barely keeping pace as her city became bigger and better.

__

The latest workloads had tied up her hands, and her voice.

__

Lately, the only melodies that left her lips were ones to the tune of bills, budgets, and finite deadlines. Who knew the aftermath of imminent disaster would spur such a boom and bustle to the city?

__

“Who woulda thought?” Pauline groused to herself quietly.

__

She rested her cheeks into her palms. An earsplitting whistle startled her, causing her to bolt upward. She looked toward its source. In the distance, Pauline could make out one of the remaining strips of train track that threaded its way through the older districts. She heard the clunk and screech of the train and saw a puff of smoke that rose from its smokestack.

__

It was a wonder the train system still existed in New Donk. The possible ramifications of transportation bills and old machinery started to play out in her head. Pauline groaned, shaking out the thoughts.

__

_Nope. Nada_.

__

“It ain’t the time for that or thinking about buddies. Gotta work on those traffic light timers.” She reminded herself, making her way inside her apartment. The sliding door hissed closed, quieting the swing of the night and the bounce of distant train cars.

__


End file.
